


Healing

by Murphamy6



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Anxiety, Canon Compliant, Derek is kinda clueless, Fluff and Angst, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Mentions of Suicide, Self-Harm, Stiles Has Panic Attacks
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-08-09
Updated: 2017-08-26
Packaged: 2018-12-13 03:06:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 4,730
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11750775
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Murphamy6/pseuds/Murphamy6
Summary: Stiles never meant for anyone to find out- especially not Derek. And, yet, despite his inability to express himself and his general fumbling, Derek helps him, helps him to heal.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is just gonna be a pre short little angsty/fluffy fic. Hope you enjoy (:

'You're such a sourwolf' Stiles says to him. Derek just responds with a glare. 'Oh wow, you're really gonna glare at me when you were the one who forced his way into my jeep and into driving it, all because you can't risk your car being seen.' 

Again, he glares at Stiles, 'We have a pack meeting to get to, and it's much more inconspicuous to drive your jeep.'

Stiles sighs, stretching his arms above his head, 'I don't know if you remember, Derek, but currently nobody is going after us-there's no need to be inconspicuous.' 

But, the words are lost on Derek as he instead stares at where Stiles' shirt has ridden up, exposing the skin above his waistband. 

He continues to talk until he notices Derek's staring and suddenly he goes quiet. He tugs his shirt down, attempting to be discreet. He closes his eyes, and takes in deep breaths in an attempt to squash his panic. He thinks that Derek can probably smell his fear. 

Derek pulls his eyes away when he realises Stiles has noticed his staring. For the rest of the car ride Derek keeps his eyes on the road and the car is silent. The sound of Stiles' thumping heartbeat is now all that he can hear. 

When they finally get to Derek's apartment for the pack meeting Stiles practically sprints out of the car to greet the rest of the pack. 

Once inside, he is all smiles and laughter, and it amazes Derek just how quickly Stiles' mood has changed from in the car. 

They have little to discuss at the pack meeting and soon decide just to watch a movie and get some pizza. 

Stiles offers to call for the pizza, and goes into the kitchen for some quiet. Derek slinks out of the room after him, hoping no one notices his disappearance. 

Stiles looks up when he hears someone in the room, and Derek hears his heartbeat pick up when he sees who it is. 

Once Stiles hangs up the phone he glances at Derek and then tries to leave the room. However, Derek blocks the doorway, forcing him right in front of him. 

Before Stiles can say anything or try to escape the room Derek points to his hip without any subtleness, 'What is that?' 

'What do you mean?' Stiles asks, feigning confusion. Derek responds to that by stepping forward and yanking up he bottom of his shirt. 'I mean, what's that?' Derek asks eyeing up the scarred skin on Stiles' hips. 

Stiles just shrugs, how was he supposed to answer that question? He could feel panic rising in his throat and his hands going clammy, he feels on the edge of tears. He can't talk about this. 

'Is someone hurting you?' Derek demands. 

Stiles shakes his head. Derek looks confused, and glances at the weirdly straight white lines crossing Stiles' skin, 'How-oh...' he says as realisation hits him. Suddenly he looks uncomfortable, as if out of his depth. 

'It's fine,' Stiles says, 'we don't need to talk about it or anything.' Derek goes to say something but stiles interrupts, 'let's just forget this ever happened,' and then, walks out of the room, leaving Derek feeling shocked and guilty. 

A few days later, when the pack are together again, Stiles and Derek still haven't talked. However, Derek's eyes are constantly on stiles, and he doesn't like it. Stiles hates being watched, being pitied. Derek and Stiles haven't even really spoken, let alone joked around like they used to. Stiles rightfully guesses that it's because Derek is scared to upset him. He feels weak and pathetic and above all else, angry. 

He avoids Derek's eyes and instead chats with the rest of the pack, absentmindedly scratching at his hip. 

Suddenly, Scott sniffs, and says 'I smell blood'. Derek glances at Stiles and then says, 'Yea sorry, I was hunting last night, there must still be blood under my nails.' It's not completely a lie, and Derek is able to steady his heartbeat enough that hopefully the pack don't doubt him. 

Scott, and the rest of the pack look skeptical, but don't question him anymore. 

Derek lied to his pack for him. Stiles can't even meet dereks eyes, the flood of emotions filling his chest are too much, instead he stares at his hands. 

He needs to get out of this situation, and so stands up, 'I just need to go grab some things from my car, I'll be back soon,' 

Stiles leaves and then Derek acts with impulse, and quickly says 'I'll come help,' before jumping up and following after stiles.

Stiles rushes outside, he needs some air, right now everything is too overwhelming, he doesn't know what to think. 

He leaves the apartment building, and sits down on the pavement, his face in his hands. 

He soon feels someone next to him, he can already tell it's Derek. 

'You didn't have to cover for me in there,' Stiles says, looking at Derek warily.

Derek just shrugs, 'Well I'm guessing you didn't want them to find out, so...' 

Stiles suddenly finds himself angry, 'I don't need you to protect me, I can look after myself,' 

He continues when he's met with silence, 'I'm still me, I'm no different now, you don't have to walk on eggshells around me, you can still talk to me and make fun of me, and don't worry,' he says, voice drenched with sarcasm, 'I won't off myself'

Derek winces at that, he can't bear the idea of losing a pack member. Stiles sees Derek's visible upset and rushes to say 'I'm sorry, I just don't know how to deal with this.' 

'It's fine,' Derek says, 'You shouldn't even be saying sorry at all, it's me who messed up.' 

Stiles smiles at him softly, 'thanks for helping me.' Derek nods, slightly uncomfortable and not sure what to do with himself. That is, until, without thinking, he leans forward, and places a hand under Stiles' shirt, right where the wounds are. Stiles flinches, partly because of the cold of Derek's hand, and partly because of his shock. 

He watches Derek's veins go black as he heals the cuts. Then, as if realising what he was doing he pulls his hand away quickly, and after a pause, voice suddenly gruff, says, 'Now they won't bleed again, and the pack won't find out.' He doesn't look Stiles in the eyes, and Stiles can tell that Derek is shocked by his own actions. 

When they walk back in to the apartment, Derek walks ahead, and Stiles is relieved, as he can't help how he gets all choked up when he thinks that that was perhaps the nicest thing anyone has ever done for him.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for all the kudos and stuff! This chapter is pretty angsty and angry so don't hate me. Also, please leave comments, I wanna know your feedback (:

Stiles wakes with a start when he hears a noise outside his window. He climbs out of bed and reaches for the baseball bat he’s become accustomed to leaving next to his bed.

He walks slowly and with caution towards the window. He raises the bat with one hand while the other pulls the window open. He peers out of the window but cannot see or hear anything on the street below. He sighs and trudges back towards his bed. He places the bat down and gets back into bed, hoping for at least a few hours sleep before school tomorrow. 

However, he soon realizes, by my billowing curtains, that he left the window open. He almost screams in frustration. He stands up, exhausted and eyes bleary with sleep. He slopes over to the window one more time, and pull the curtains open, expecting just to see his open window.

Instead, Stiles is met with a face, one which is not quite human. He opens his mouth to scream, but stops himself as he does not want to alert his Dad. Instead, Stiles just fall backwards, tripping over his legs, scrambling to get away from whatever the hell is in his bedroom in the middle of the night.

The thing comes closer to him, but it is too dark for Stiles to see what it is. It crouches right in front of him and covers his mouth with its hand. Stiles tries and move backwards but his back meets the wall and he’s trapped. He decides to do the next best thing to escaping this creature. 

He bites down as hard as he can on its hand. It pulls away and a familiar voice lets out a string of curses. ‘Derek?’ Stiles asks, incredulous as he stands and turns the light on. 

‘Uh…hi’ Derek says, rubbing the back of his neck and looking sheepish. 

‘So, what exactly led you to traumatize me in the middle of the night?’ Stiles asks, eyebrow raised.

‘I thought you knew it was me, and then I had to stop you from screaming,’

‘Well sorry, Derek, but we don’t all have amazing werewolf night vision,’ Stiles responds, sarcasm lacing his voice. Derek can tell, however, from Stiles’ scent that he is not that angry.

‘Sorry,’ Derek says, looking at the floor.'

‘Aw come on, don’t act like a little kid getting told off, you’re making me feel bad now,’ 

Derek looks up and gives him a wolfish grin, Stiles shakes his head, ‘You’re an ass. But really, what are you doing in my room at…’ Stiles looks at the clock, ‘3 in the morning?’

‘Um, I couldn’t sleep,’ 

‘And, so, you came to me?’ Stiles asks, confusion and annoyance crossing his features.

‘I actually had a question.’ Derek can hear Stiles’ heartbeat pick up slightly from those words.

‘And its one important enough to terrorize me in the middle of the night?’

‘For me, yes,’ Derek replies, ‘I just have to know something…’

‘Ok…’ Stiles says, clearly apprehensive. 

‘Those new uh…cuts…were they because of me?’

Stiles swallows, and looks anywhere but at Derek. He can’t understand why Derek is suddenly so interested in his life. 

‘Not really. I mean, you finding out about all this didn’t exactly help, but it’s a lot of other things, I guess,’ Stiles says, rubbing his arm, and looking away, feeling awkward. 

‘I’m sorry, then, if it was at all because of me,’ Derek says.

‘You only care because you’re involved, and you need to reassure yourself that you’re a good person. You are only here so you don’t feel guilty, you don’t suddenly care about me or my life. How about we just go back to when we ignored each other?’ Stiles says, bitter and irate. 

‘I do care,’ Derek insists. 

‘You don’t act like it. Suddenly showing interest in my life just because otherwise you’ll blame yourself if I kill myself. That is not caring.’ Stiles spits.

‘Of course, I care, you’re pack and…and I don’t want a pack member to be hurting. And what do you mean I don’t act like I care? Am I supposed to spend all my time with you? Give you affection? What? Cause you’re not exactly helping me out with ideas of what to do here. You think I’ve been in this situation before? Of course not, I can’t even begin to know how to deal with this.’ 

Stiles looks shocked, ‘That’s the most I’ve ever heard you say,’ he shakes his head and then, ‘If you want to help then just treat me like how you would normally, ok? I’m no different from anyone else. I don’t need you pestering me every time you sense that I’m upset.’

Derek nods slowly, ‘Can I just ask you one last question?’ Stiles rolls his eyes but nods.

‘Why…why do you do it?’ Stiles finds this question slightly invasive but no one has ever paid him this much attention before and the urge to just spill all his problems and worries overcomes him. 

‘It helps when I feel anxious or get panic attacks. I guess it kind of grounds me? Brings me back to the real world, I suppose. It’s like…pain to take away other pain.’

Derek nods, and he feels he understands. Whenever he thinks of the fire or the people he has lost he works out to the point of exhaustion. The burning muscles and fatigue are good distractions. At that moment, he wants to reach out, to touch Stiles, to let him know he understands, but he can’t, and instead stays still. 

‘And I do want to stop…it’s not like I enjoy this, it’s just so hard…its almost addictive,’ Stiles says, his voice quiet and calm. 

‘I want to help…to help you stop…’ Derek mumbles, uncertain, cheeks slightly pink, just knowing he can’t bear to see a pack member in this pain. 

Stiles gives Derek a smile and a nod, and then before he knows what’s happening Derek flees the room, and is out of the window before Stiles can say another word. Derek finds this all too much, and fears overstepping the line, and, so, feels that leaving is the best thing to do.

Stiles is left confused, but slightly more hopeful than before.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this took forever but thanks for all the kudos and everything x

'Ok- it's my go,' Stiles says crossing his arms with a smirk as he walks closer to Derek. 

The werewolves of the pack are currently training with Derek in his apartment, and stiles has decided he's had enough of just watching. And hey, with the amount of times people have taken shots at his life he might as well learn how to defend himself. 

'Oh really?' Derek says, with a raised eyebrow. 

The rest of the pack look skeptical, and Erica even let's out a laugh. 

'As long as you don't use any of your werewolf skills, I might as well get the practice,' 

'Alright,' Derek says easily, and then with smugness 'you'll be down in seconds.' 

'Well let's see about that,' Stiles says walking into the area of empty floor space they use for training.

Derek stands across from stiles smirking. Stiles huffs, he has to prove this asshole wrong. 

Derek lunges at him, and somehow stiles ducks out of way just in time. He's faster than Derek, and he supposes that being lean has some benefits. As well as that, Derek did agree not to use his werewolf abilities. 

Stiles largely avoids Derek, not attempting to hurt him, because he knows one of his punches would feel like nothing to Derek. 

Quickly, though, Derek manages to get a hold of Stiles. But, his dad has given him enough basic self defense that he knows how to escape. Derek has a grip of stiles' arm, and so with his other hand stiles goes to jab his fingers at Derek's eyes. When Derek's hands move up to protect his face, Stiles' arm is freed. 

He moves quickly away and grins when he sees Derek scowling.

'What was that about me being down in seconds?' Stiles asks, cocky. 

And then, Stiles is on the ground, Derek above him, pinning him down. 

'I always suspected I might find you on top of me...I guess I just imagined it would be under different circumstances,' Stiles jokes, and doesn't even try to escape Derek. He hears laughter from the pack, and Derek's ears go red. 

Through his laughter he notices Derek looking his body up and down...almost searching for something...and stiles knows he's looking for more cuts. 

Stiles also knows he's never been good with confrontation of any kind and so without thinking he knees Derek in the balls. 

Derek rolls to the side, groaning in pain. Apparently even werewolves find a kick to the crotch painful. 

Stiles stands up, smug, and says 'Hah!' He then glances to his watch, 'And I lasted a whole 3 minutes!' 

'Yea, yea' Derek mutters through groans, still lying on the floor. Stiles almost feels bad but with Derek's healing abilities he will be fine. 

Stiles moves away from the rest of the pack and joins Allison on the couch, 'Hey,' she says as Stiles goes to sit next to her, 'How did you get those bruises on your knuckles?' 

'In the fight,' Stiles says, shrugging, 'Punching Derek is like punching a brick wall,' Stiles says with a chuckle.

Derek frowns from across the room. He knows Stiles didn't punch him. 

Later, when the pack is all starting to leave Derek pulls Stiles aside, and tells the rest of the pack that they have to speak alone. Stiles tells them to go ahead without him. 

Stiles plonks himself down on the couch, lying across most of it. Derek goes to sit at the edge of the sofa, and so stiles lifts his legs. As soon as Derek is seated Stiles places his legs in Derek's lap. 

He then sighs, and rests his hands against his stomach. 'I know what this is about,' he says, 'and no, I haven't cut again, not yet.' The 'not yet' makes Derek clench his fists, and he can't bear to look at stiles. 

'You're lying,' Derek says, eyes on the floor. 

'You heard my heart beat, I'm telling the truth,' Stiles says, adamantly.

'Have you stopped hurting yourself, then?' Derek asks, looking at stiles. He can see stiles' visible anxiety at the words. 

'Sorry, I'm not trying to upset you, I just want to know.' 

'Why?' Stiles demands, crossing his arms. 

'We've been over this. It's because I care.' 

'Yea, yea,' Stiles says dismissively.

Then after a pause Derek says, 'So, have you...have you hurt yourself again?' 

'There's no point in giving you an answer, you already know,' Stiles says, swallowing as he tries to hold back his overflowing emotions. He can't talk about this without feeling profoundly weak. He just wants to break down and cry. 

Derek reaches over and gently takes stiles' hands into his. With a barely there touch Derek strokes his fingers over stiles' knuckles. Derek tries to not think about the mottled colors crossing stiles' hands. He tries to stay put together. 

Derek doesn't want to ask questions, doesn't want to intrude, doesn't want to hurt stiles more, but stiles seems to sense his curiosity. 

Stiles rubs his neck awkwardly and mumbles, 'I...I um punched my wall'

Derek nods, and hesitantly says, 'I think I get it...after the fire I was angry, at myself and at Kate. I'd get into fights, fights so bad that they even left /me/ bruised.' He hopes this comforts stiles. He doesn't know what else to say. He doesn't want to give him pity, he wants to give him understanding.

Stiles leans into his touch. His hands tightening around Derek's. He grimaces slightly at the pain but Derek quickly takes it. Stiles shuffles up slightly next to Derek, their shoulders touching. 

'At least you had some kind of reason, though. I used to use the pain for relief, a distraction. But now, it's like I can't help but hurt myself. It's like I'm addicted to the pain,' Stiles reveals, looking at their entwined fingers. 

'We can...if you want...get you some help...' Derek says, unsure. 

Stiles hesitates, and then nods, 'That'd be...good.' They sit in silence for a while, just enjoying the comfort and touch of one another. 

Derek speaks up, 'Stiles if you ever need to punch something or someone to let energy out, literally just punch me. You'll break something if you keep hitting walls.' 

'And it won't hurt me to hit you? Dude you literally have abs of stone.' Stiles scoffs. 

'Well it'll hurt a lot less than an actual stone wall.'

'And what about you? I don't want to hurt you.' 

'I'd much rather you hurt me than yourself,' Derek says with a shrug. And then as an after thought, 'I'd barely feel it anyway.' 

But stiles isn't paying attention. Stiles is crying. 

Derek stiffens, and then rushes to say, I'm sorry, did I say something?' 

Stiles can't reply. Derek /did/ say something. Something so kind and selfless that stiles can't breathe. His heart feels like it's going to explode out of his chest. Emotion wells up in his throat. How could Derek say that-that he'd rather feel pain than stiles. How could anyone say that to him? Stiles can't even explaining what he's feeling except for overwhelming gratitude

He rests his head on Derek's shoulder, and Derek moves his hand from Stiles' to wrap around Stiles' waist. Stiles says 'Thank you', and tries to put as much meaning as he can in those two short words. 

Derek continues to hold Stiles, and Stiles decides that he never wants this to end.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> More angst cause I just seem to hate happy sterek lmao

Derek is sitting in his apartment watching tv, when he gets a text message. Absentmindedly he turns his phone on and clicks on the message, attention elsewhere. That is, until he sees who it's from and what it says.

Stiles has sent a message. All it says is 'Derek I need you.' Derek doesn't even think as he jumps up, he rushes out of his apartment building, barely remembering his keys as he leaves. 

He calls stiles, and gets no answer, and so he follows his instinct and his sense of smell to Stiles' house. He doesn't even bother driving, he just runs, runs until his heart burns and his legs shake. He can't lose Stiles. He can't let Stiles be in pain. 

He makes it to Stiles' house in record time, and notes that Stiles' dad is not home. With effortless grace he jumps onto the roof next to Stiles' window. The window is locked but he shoves it up with enough force to open it. A broken window is the least of his worries right now. 

He rushes into the room, and sees a shaking Stiles in the corner. 

Derek thinks he's going to be sick. The overwhelming metallic smell of blood and pain fills his mind. The sight of Stiles is even worse. 

Stiles is sitting in the corner of his room, leaning against the wall, knees pulled up to his chin, and shaking uncontrollably. 

And the blood. There's so much. So much blood, Derek can't tell where the wounds start, and he can't even see Stiles' soft, ivory skin through the sea of scarlet.

Derek's throat constricts as he falls on to the floor next to stiles. 'Oh god...oh god, Stiles...' Derek is rambling all sorts of incomprehensible things, tears blurring his vision and choking his words. He grabs on to Stiles hands, attempting to inspect the wounds, but he can't even think. 

He wildly presses his hands to stiles' arms, trying desperately to stop the bleeding. But, he can't even see the wounds to cover, there's so many, and so much blood. He picks stiles up, as gently as he possibly can. Stiles' head lolls against his arm, his face paling. 'Come on Stiles, come on...' Derek begs, voice shaking as he rushes into his bathroom. 

He places Stiles in the shower and shuts the door behind him. Derek is frantic now, but tries to stay calm for Stiles. Still fully clothed he joins Stiles in the shower. Derek turns the water on and sits next to him, pulling Stiles against him, as to keep him upright. 

'It's okay, it's okay,' Derek says, attempting to reassure both him and Stiles. 'I'm sorry,' Stiles mumbles, his voice shaking through sobs. 'Shh, shh... it's okay Stiles, we are just gonna get you cleaned up.' Derek says, pain ripping through his voice. 

He wets a towel and gently holds it over Stiles' wounds. He wraps his other arm around Stiles, pulling him close. With soft touches and strokes he cleans Stiles' arms of his blood. Stiles whimpers throughout, and Derek goes lightheaded with the extent of Stiles' pain that he is taking. 

Once he's washed most of the blood away, he is able to see Stiles' arm clearly. Though none of the cuts are deep enough to require stitches there are so many. Sadness wells up in Derek's chest and he tries to hold back his tears. 

Derek thinks that this hurts more than a wolfsbane bullet ever could. The fact that someone, someone so beautiful, and infinitely better than most, could feel so bad as to mutilate himself. Derek just wants to stop all of Stiles' pain. He wishes he could take emotional pain as well as physical pain. 

Derek has no words as to express his profound sorrow towards stiles. If Derek feels this way just seeing this, he can't imagine the pain Stiles must be in. He shakes his head and tears fall. 

Slowly, Derek edges Stiles into his arms, picking him up and carrying out of the shower. Derek places him gently on the toilet seat, treating him with upmost care. 

Stiles' eyes are shut, and his head leans back against the bathroom wall. 

'Stiles, Stiles?' Derek says, kneeling in front of him, pulling his hands into his. 'Stiles, I'm going to need your help here.' 

Stiles opens his eyes, weakly, and looks down to the floor. 

'Stiles, I need to get you out of your wet clothes, do you think you can help me?' 

Stiles nods slowly, 'Ok, ok, that's perfect,' Derek says, voice full of earnest. He stands up, and begins to pull the bottom of Stiles' shirt above his head. Stiles lifts his arms, and the shirt comes off easily. 

'Ok, Stiles, now I'm going to need you to stand up, you can lean on me.' Stiles nods again, and stands slowly, only a little wobble in his legs. 

Derek pulls Stiles to his side, and slowly unbuttons his jeans, and slides them to the floor. Stiles kicks them to the side, and then does the same with his boxers. 

He leans against Derek's side, naked and sobbing. The raw emotion breaks Derek's heart and he just wants to hold Stiles forever. He runs his hand up and down his shaking back, talking in gentle whispers, attempting to soothe him. 

When it seems that Stiles has calmed slightly, Derek again places him on the toilet seat. He wraps Stiles in countless towels, and carefully rubs him dry. 

'I'm going to have to get some clothes from your room, ok?' 

'Don't leave,' Stiles says.

'I won't, I promise, I'll be back in a minute, ok?' 

'Ok,' Stiles nods. 

Derek rushes out of the room and to Stiles' bedroom. He quickly grabs a pair of sweats and a tshirt and goes back to the bathroom. 

He removes the towels wrapped around Stiles' body, and pulls the tshirt over his head. Then, he pulls Stiles closer to him and edges the sweats up his legs and over his hips. 

'Ok, now I'm going to clean and bandage your wounds,' Derek says, trying to keep Stiles alert with his conversation. 

He goes to the cabinet in the bathroom and pulls out some antiseptic cream and gauze. 

With soft touches, and taking Stiles' pain whenever he flinches, Derek rubs antiseptic cream over the cuts. Then, as Derek begins to bandage the wounds Stiles starts to talk. 

'It's the anniversary of my moms death...' Stiles says, slowly and carefully. 'I just...I just felt so bad, I wanted to come to you...but I was embarrassed.' 

Derek can hear the upset in Stiles voice, 'Hey, hey, it's okay, you don't have to explain yourself to me.' He says. 

Derek then finishes his bandaging, and slowly lifts Stiles to stand. He wraps an arm around Stiles' waist, and helps walk him to his bedroom. 

'Next time I'll talk to you...I promise.' He says. Derek doesn't reply, and instead places a soft kiss to Stiles' forehead. 

Once they reach Stiles' bedroom Derek puts Stiles in the bed, and goes to tuck him in. 

'No...' Stiles says, reaching out a hand to touch Derek's arm, 'I want you to stay here, with me.' Derek doesn't even hesitate before he nods. He quickly gets out of his wet clothing and slides in to Stiles' bed. 

He pulls Stiles into his arms, his nose in Stiles' hair. They lie together for a while, in silence, and eventually Stiles mumbles 'Thank you,' turning to face Derek. 

'I'll always help you Stiles,' he replies, staring honestly into Stiles' eyes. 

And, at that, Stiles leans in and his lips brush Derek's. 

It's a short, chaste kiss but it seems to put everything both of them are feeling into words. They pull away, Derek smiling gently at Stiles. 

That night they fall asleep in each other's arms-content.


End file.
